Chapter 29
The sun was shining all of February and through March. I spent half of spring break hanging out with Cam and Ollie at home and then the later part back at his parents’ house and we even got to hang out with Brit while she was home.
I found it strange that Brit didn’t seem to know what happened between Cam and his sister’s ex-boyfriend, but I didn’t bring it up. What Cam had told me had been personal and no matter my curiosity over whether or not she knew, I wasn’t going to violate that trust between us.
Especially when there’d been so many opportunities for me to open up to him. It was something that, no matter how many times I told myself I would do it, I couldn’t get the words past my tongue. The idea of confiding in Cam terrified me. It wouldn’t be easy and I really didn’t even know where to begin.
Instead I went out of my way to make sure my phone was never unsupervised around Cam. I was still receiving the texts and phone calls, at least two times a week, and I shied away from my email. Several times over the last two months, I almost responded to the text. Or I almost pulled up my email and responded to one of the messages.
Just like with Cam, I rather pretend it wasn’t happening than deal with it. I hated that part of me, loathed it really, because I was still running instead of facing anything.
As winter loosened its hold on the tiny speck of the state and the ground began to thaw, Cam was deciding on if he should pay a visit home over the mid-April weekend or hang out here and be lazy while Jacob spent lunch trying to convince Brit to accompany him to some kind of volunteer garden planting adventure.
Brit swirled her fry in a glob of mayo. Ollie watched her, handsome face twisted in awed-disgust. She was completely oblivious. “I’m not going to spend my last four day weekend of the semester planting daisies.”
“It’s not daises.” Jacob sighed. “It’s a botanical garden of wonder and love.”
Cam was sitting at the table, facing me. He dropped his head on my shoulder, hiding his snicker. I went with the old hand over the mouth method.
“That just sounds stupid.” Brit popped the mayo-covered fry in her mouth, and Ollie groaned. “I’m going to spend the four days being a veg.”
“Would you rather spend your time being a cucumber or making your soul feel happy?”
Cam’s shoulders started to shake.
“I think I will go with being a piece of broccoli,” Brit replied.
Across from us Ollie finally dragged his gaze away from Brit’s place and looked at Jacob. “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” He smacked his hands down. “Why not paint the world in beautiful flowers of all different colors?”
I stared at him. “Are you high?”
Jacob looked affronted… for maybe two seconds. “Maybe a little.”
Laughing, I glanced at Brit. “You should help him build his happy garden.”
She snorted. “You can help him.”
“Oh, no.” Cam lifted his head as he scooted toward me, slipping his hand over my leg, just above my knee. “She’s all mine this weekend. No garden of love.”
“Unless she’s planting in your garden of love?” Jacob queried.
I rolled my eyes. “Cute.”
“Sounding like she was doing some planting last night.” Ollie moved the tiny paper cup of mayo further away from Brit. “At least from the noises coming from your bedroom.”
My mouth dropped open. “Whatever!”
“Did you have your ear plastered to my bedroom door?” Cam hand inched up, and my cheeks were suddenly burning for a whole different reason.
Ollie shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“Freak,” Cam tossed back.
The three of them launched into a discussion about vegetables, leaving Cam and I on the outside of the bizarro conversation, which was okay with me. I wasn’t a fan of vegetables.
“I have another great idea.” Cam propped his chin on my shoulder, voice low.
I turned my head just the slightest toward him. “Oh dear…”
“You’re going to love it.”
Warmth bubbled up my chest and I wanted to say I love you, but sitting in the Den, while our friends were discussing the pros and cons of asparagus didn’t seem like the best moment to blurt that out. So I settled with a, “What’s your idea?”
“Take the rest of the day off and chill with me.”
That sounded like an excellent idea. “I have class.”
“You have art. That doesn’t really count as a class.”
“How so?”
He lifted his head, pressing his lips to the space beside my ear. “You told me you almost fell asleep on Monday.”
“Almost,” I reiterated.
Cam now kissed the spot under my ear, and I shivered. “Trust me. What I want to do is so much better than art.”
My mind went straight to one thing. Sex. Like real sex with real penetration.
Oh my God, I couldn’t believe I just thought that. Was there a fake penetration I was unaware of? Actually, sort of. We’d done everything except sex. We’ve touched, groped, he’d gone down on me and I on him, but sex? There had been none of the actual act, but the last time, what Ollie was claiming he heard, it had seemed like we were heading there. There had been a certain intent
I’d panicked and basically went down on Cam. Not that he was complaining, but I couldn’t keep doing that. We had to take our relationship to the next level. Besides, I was probably the only twenty-year-old virgin on campus and how long would Cam wait for me to be ready? We’d been together for four months and guy time was like dog years so that was like four years.
Anticipation tingled throughout me, but under the excitement, unease formed like a ball of ice in my chest.
Cam circled his arms around my waist, pulling me out of my chair and into his lap. The people at our table basically ignored us, but the ones at the tables around us, were starting to stare.
He was totally unfazed by the attention as he tipped his head back, grinning widely. “So what do you say?”
“You two are so sickly sweet it’s actually cute,” Jacob said, interrupting us. We looked at him. “If you don’t skip art and run off with him, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Well then, how can I say no?”
I just hoped that when it came down to it, I could say yes.
#
Cam really was extraordinary.
And I don’t know how he managed to continuously surprise me with his thoughtfulness or how it was even possible for him to be so wonderful. Or why it took me so long to pull my head out of my ass and to see that.
When we’d left the campus, he met me about my car and ushered me over to his truck. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.”
The secretive half smile had me on edge. It wasn’t until we hit I70 and I saw the sign did I know where we were going. I twisted toward him and in my excitement, I almost choked myself with the seatbelt.
Cam laughed.
“We’re going to D.C.? Aren’t we?” I exclaimed, practically bouncing in my seat.
He slid me a sly side look. “Maybe.”
“And we’re going to the Smithsonian, right?”
“Quite possibly.”
I flipped forward, clasping my hands together. “Why?” I blurted out. “I mean, I know history bores you, so why?”
“Why?” He laughed again as he messed with his baseball cap. “I told you that I’d go to the Smithsonian with you and I didn’t get to do it with you on your birthday, so I thought why not today?”
Why not today? That was one of the things I loved most about Cam. His ability to do things on the spur of the moment, no thought or plan behind them. He literally lived by the moment and nothing held him back, not even the trouble he’d gotten into, because he had moved past that.
Mainly because I knew he’d accepted what he’d done and the consequences of his actions. It may have taken him a few weeks after it happened, but he’d come to terms with it.
I admired that in him.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening going from exhibit to exhibit. Cam seemed more interested in touching me and stealing kisses than what we were looking at and I was okay with that. I thought of the couples I’d watched last time and realized I had become one of them. It was so normal, so perfect. There was nothing different between us and them and I reveled in that.
It was late when we got home and since there were no classes on Thursday, we had the whole night. Buzzing from out impromptu trip, I dropped some of the stinky tortoise bites onto a little bowl and slipped it into Michelangelo’s home.
As I closed the lid on the terrarium, Cam came up behind me, placing his hands on my hips. He turned me around, and I stretched up, placing a kiss on his lips.
“Thank you for today,” I said, looping my arms around his neck. “I had a lot of fun.”
“I told you that my idea was great.”
“They usually are.”
“Holy shit.” His eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Did you just admit that?”
I grinned. “Maybe I did.”
“Uh-huh, you’ve always known my ideas hit a ten.”
“On a scale of 1 to 100, yes.”
“Ha. Ha.” His slid his hands up until they rested on my ribcage. “Guess what. Got another idea.”
“Does it involve eggs?”
A deep laugh burst from Cam and then he tugged my hips against his. “It doesn’t involve eggs.”
I had a good idea of what it involved. My stomach dipped. “It doesn’t?”
He shook his head. “But it does involve something equally tasty.”
My cheeks heated as I turned my head to the side.
His lips followed the movement, tracing my cheekbone. “And it involves you, me, a bed, and very little, if any, clothing.”
Tingles shot down my spine. “Does it now?”
“Yes.” Cam slid his hand down, under the band of my jeans so that his fingers rested over the swell of my rear. He brushed his lips over my brow. “What do you think?”
I wasn’t thinking. Tipping my head back, Cam obliged my silent invitation. His lips were mine and then his hands were under my shirt. He broke away long enough to tug my shirt off and then his. Lips melded together, we started walking, our hips bumping into the couch and he lost his balance. He fell backward, half on the couch and half off. Giggles broke free between our kisses and our laughter died off as our hands got more involved. With a skill beyond me, Cam managed to get my jeans off while I sprawled on top of him and then he displayed a whole different kind of talent.
His hands traveled northward, cresting over my breasts, finding the nipples covered by satin. I arched against his hands, biting back a moan as Cam made that sexy sound as his hips pushed up against mine. A rush of heat flooded my core as one hand left my breast and slipped down the curve of my stomach. His hand slid under my panties. He palmed me, rubbing his thumb in just the right place that I cried out. The desire—the need to lose myself in nothing but sensation, even for just a few moments, took over. My skin was on fire as I put my weight on my knees and reached down, unzipping his fly.
“Avery,” Cam groaned, thrusting into my palm.
Upon hearing my name on his lips, tension built deep inside me. Our bodies rocked together, but still apart. Then the tension was spiraling, breaking apart and shattering. I threw my head back, biting down on my lip. Bliss washed over me.
Cam shifted under me and the next thing I know, he was standing and I was wrapped around him like a little monkey. My body was still trembling when I hit the bed. In a heated daze, I watched him strip. Completely.
My God, he was beautiful.
He hooked his fingers under my panties and I lifted my hips so he could pull them down. It wasn’t the first time that he’d stripped me bare, but it was the first time that we both were so naked. There were different stages of nakedness I’ve learned over the past four months. This was the final stage. My stomach fluttered.
Cam hovered over me, his lips trailing a path across my body. My fingers were in his soft hair as he came back up, claiming my mouth. He shifted above me and I felt him on my thigh.
My heart stuttered and then sped up.
A tremor coursed over his body or maybe it was mine causing his to do that, because I think I was shaking. I didn’t know if it was from excitement or something else. My hands found his chest and they flattened there.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice strained as he held himself back. “Yes,” I said, and I told myself that I did. And I did want this. I wanted to cross that final line with Cam.
His eyes met mine for a moment and then he bent his head, kissing me as he lowered his body upon mine. I felt him there, the tip of him slipping through my wetness, and I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the weight of him on top of me or the feel of him between my thighs. For a frightening second, I wasn’t in my bedroom or under Cam. I was back on the couch, my cheek pressed roughly into the coarse fabric. Cold air rushed over my exposed lower body, followed by a rough, demanding hand. I tried to push the memory out of my head and focus on what was really happening, but once it crept in, I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Every muscle in my body locked up and the knot of unease from earlier in the day returned with a vengeance. It was like being hit with an arctic blast. I went cold on the outside and inside. Panic dug in with razor sharp claws.
I twisted my head to the side, breaking the kiss as I pushed against his chest. “No. Stop. Please stop.”
Cam froze above me, his chest rising and falling deeply. “Avery? What the—?”
“Get off.” My skin was crawling as pressure clamped down on my chest. “Get off. Please. Get off me.”
He rolled off me in an instant, and I scrambled across the bed, grabbing the comforter and tugging it up over me. I shot to my feet, backing up until I hit the dresser. Bottles of lotion rattled. The soft thud of them hitting the floor snapped me out of it. My heart was racing so fast I thought I’d be sick.
“Oh God,” I whispered hoarsely. There was a good chance I was going to hurl the baked pretzel we’d shared earlier.
Light from the hallway cast strange shadows over half of Cam’s pale face. His eyes were as big as the moon. He stared at me, brows pinched with concern. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t—”
“No. No!” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even… I don’t know. I’m sorry…” I trailed off, having no idea what to say.
Cam took several deep breaths, planting his hands on the bed. “Talk to me, Avery. What just happened?”
“Nothing.” My voice cracked. “Nothing happened. I just thought—”
“You thought what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal—”
“Not a big deal?” His brows flew up. “Avery, you just scared the shit out of me. You started panicking like I was hurting you or—or like I was forcing you to do this.”
Horrified, I felt my stomach drop. “You weren’t forcing me, Cam. I liked what you were doing.”
Several seconds passed and then he said, “You know I would never hurt you, right?”
“Yes.” Tears clogged my throat.
“And I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” He spoke slowly, each word precise. “You understand that, right? If you’re not ready, I’m okay with that, but you have to talk to me. You have to let me know before it gets to that point.”
Clenching the blanket, I nodded.
There was another gap of silence and his stare pierced mine. A certain level of comprehension flashed across his features, and I bit down on my lip. I wanted to know what he was thinking and then again, I didn’t.
“What are you not telling me?” he asked, like he’d done the night out in the parking lot.
I couldn’t say anything.
His jaw clenched. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing!” The word burst from me like a cannon. “There’s nothing to talk about, dammit. Just f*cking drop it.”
“You’re lying.”
There. He said it. He called me on it.
Cam took a deep, long breath. “You’re lying to me. Something happened, because that?” He gestured at where we’d been twined together moments before. “That wasn’t about not being ready. That was about something else, because you know—you know—I would wait for you, Avery. I swear, but you have to tell me what’s going on in your head.”
My chest ached at his words, but I couldn’t say anything.
“I’m begging you, Avery. You’ve got to be up front and honest with me. You said that you trusted me. You’ve got to prove it, because I know there is more to this. I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I remember how you acted when we first met and I sure as hell remember what you said that night you were drunk.”
Oh God. The floor shifted under my feet.
He was on a roll. “And that text message you got? Are you telling me that has nothing to do with this? If you trust me, you will finally tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I do trust you.” The tears reached my eyes, blurring him.
Cam watched me for a second and then stood, grabbing his jeans off the floor. He tugged them on, zipping them up but not buttoning them. He faced me, expression tense. “I don’t know what else to do with you, Avery. I’ve told you shit that I’m not proud of. Stuff that hardly anyone in this world knows and yet you keep shit from me. You keep everything from me. You don’t trust me.”
“No—I do.” I started forward but stopped when I saw the look on his face. “I trust you with my life.”
“But not with the truth? That’s such bullshit, Avery. You don’t trust me.” He stalked past me, heading out to the living room.
I followed him, my hands shaking. “Cam—”
“Stop it.” He grabbed his sweater off the floor and faced me. “I don’t know what else to do and I know I don’t know everything in the world, but I do know that relationships don’t work this way.”
Fear punched me in the chest. “What are you saying?”
“What do you think I’m saying, Avery? There are some obvious issues with you and no, don’t f*cking look at me like I kicked your puppy. Do you think I’d break up with you because of whatever the hell went on with you? Just like you thought I’d think differently of you when I saw the scar on your wrist? I know you think that and that’s bullshit.” Sorrow and raw anger flooded his voice. “How can there be any future for us if you can’t be honest with me? If you can’t really trust that how I feel about you is strong enough, then we have nothing. This is the shit that ends relationships. Not the past, Avery, but the present.”
My breath caught. “Cam, please—”
“No more, Avery. I told you before. All I asked from you was to trust me and not shut me out.” He turned to the door. “And you don’t trust me and you shut me out again.”
And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him. I made it to the couch before my legs gave out. Sitting down, I pressed my knees to my chest. There was a cracking in my chest, my heart, and the pain was so very real.
My mouth opened, but I didn’t make a sound.
I never made a sound.